Promise
by Orlandoroxmysox
Summary: He promised he would come back to her. He promised. HPGW, angst, after HBP. R&R please.


**Promise**

"You could have at least told me you were going away." she said, sniffing. He turned towards the fireplace.

"I didn't want to upset you." he said quietly. He didn't want her to suffer anymore. Her grief was weighing down upon her; he could see it. Her eyes were listless, her face pale, her hair limp. She was thinner, a ghost of her former self.

"It upsets me more that you were going to leave without saying goodbye." she said, anger touching her soft voice. He sank into the couch next to her. She turned her head away, but he caught her chin and looked into her eyes.

"I'm sorry." he whispered. He kissed her gently on the lips, savoring the electricity that shot through his entire body before pulling away. Another tear escaped her closed eyes and she leaned into his sweater, breathing in his comforting scent. After another few long moments of holding each other, he felt her breathing slow, and he gently broke the embrace, standing and carefully laying her sleeping form along the worn couch cushions beneath them.

He buttoned his coat and tucked his wand safely into his pocket before disappearing under his Invisibility cloak, giving her one last kiss on the cheek before quietly slipping into the snowy night.

Hours later, she awoke. She hadn't opened her eyes, but she knew in her heart that he was gone. Sitting up, she wrapped the ragged flannel blanket around her shoulders. She imagined that it was his body heat enveloping her, and she could almost feel his arms around her shoulders. His scent lingered in the room.

She filled a kettle with water, setting it on the stove and turning the gas on, leaning against the counter while it slowly began to boil.

The house was empty. Her brothers dead or out fighting, her father murdered, her mother dead soon after from grief. Her old friends dying and fighting. She kicked the stove angrily, another flood of tears rushing to her eyes.

She had been out of school for only a year when the fighting started. The Ministry had been in a panic, unorganized and unprepared for this kind of threat. Innocent citizens, wizard and muggle alike, were dying. No one was safe in London anymore. No one in all of England was safe anymore. The English government tried to keep it as quiet as possible, but the threat was growing, the death count was growing. They wouldn't be able to silence it soon.

Parliament was stubborn. They wouldn't accept help from other countries even if it was offered. It would only be more deaths; the magical side was powerful enough to wipe out whole armies in less than a day, though that kind of tradgedy had yet to strike. It was only a matter of time before the full power of the enemy was exerted.

She jumped as the kettle shrieked, jarring her from her thoughts. Dropping in a tea bag, she set it on an unlit burner and let it brew. Taking out a chipped mug, she waited for the tea to saturate the water completely before pouring some into the mug and dumping in a spoonful of sugar. Sipping it, she felt the warmth travel through her body. She finished and rinsed it out in the sink, replacing it in the dusty old cabinet.

She dragged herself into the living room and curled up on the couch once more. He always came back to her, even if it was just for a night. He promised her that he would always come back.

She watched the door for the next 2 weeks, peering cautiously out of the decrepit curtains, breaking the routine only for a bit of bread or some water to quiet her aching stomach.

Every night, she fell asleep on the couch, her dirty face streaked with tears, her stringy hair settling across her face.

The door never opened.

She didn't dare to read the Daily Prophet. The owls that came daily to deliver it tapped incessantly on the windows, cooing curiously at the silence, before leaving. She was afraid of what she may read.

After a month, she started bathing again, and sleeping in one of the bedrooms again. She even cast an invisibility spell on herself and traveled to Diagon Alley. The people in the Alley were scarce, many shops closed. She hurriedly exchanged some of the piles of money in his vault for muggle money and made a trip to a nearby muggle grocery, buying some necessary supplies before returning home.

After two months of waiting, she was sitting in the living room when the door banged open. She let out a relieved sob and rushed to the figure coming in the door, pulling him in and leading him to the couch.

"I thought you'd never return." she said, hugging him. She pulled off the hat and scarf covering his face.

They fell to the floor in a heap as she stared at the figure on her couch.

"R-Ron?" she cried. The man nodded. His red hair was ragged and dirty, and the color was somewhat difficult to discern. His face was pale and dirty, a scar running down his jaw, and his eyes were dull and listless.

"I'm so glad to see you, Ginny." he whispered, a deep sob welling in his throat as he said her name. She kissed his cheeks, hugging him, ruffling his hair in a motherly way, tears falling across her face again. She was used to tears. It surprised her that she still had any to shed.

She led him to the kitchen and made him some tea before sitting at the table across from him and asking him why he was home. He had been away fighting for the Ministry for a year. She thought he was dead.

"The fighting has died down a little bit." he said quietly. "Some of the aurors have been sent home to rest up with their families before the next battle."

"When will it be over." It wasn't a question. She sipped her own tea.

A thought crossed her mind.

"If aurors have been allowed to come home to their families, then where is-?" She stopped at the look on her brother's face. A realization welled in her, overwhelming her senses, drowning her. She closed her eyes and stood up.

"Ginny? Where are you going?" he asked. She didn't answer as she left the kitchen. Finding Ron's coat, she searched through the pockets until she found a copy of the most recent Daily Prophet. Ron was always strict about knowing what was going on. She knew he would have it. He entered the room and saw her unwrapping the paper.

"Ginny, I don't think you should..." he started, but was silenced at the look of utter dejection that crossed her face. She unrolled the paper and read the headline aloud.

"H-Harry Potter missing in action." She continued to the beginning of the article. "Authorites s-suspect he may have been captured or... or...dead. He was last seen in battle by his fellow auror and best friend Ronald Weasley." With that, the paper dropped from her hands and hit the floor. She turned to Ron. Tears were streaming down his face as he watched her stand and come to where he stood.

"I'm sorry, Ginny." he whispered. She hugged him tightly.

"It's okay." she said.

"What?" he asked, pulling away to look at her face. A strange calm had settled on her features.

"He promised me." she whispered.

"What are you talking about, Ginny?" he asked cautiously.

"He promised me he would come home. He promised that he would always come home to me." she said. Her voice was eerily calm. Ron watched her as she wrapped herself in the flannel blanket that was draped across the back of an armchair and sat on the couch, watching the door intently.

"But-"

"He promised!" she sobbed. "He will come home!" she said determinedly, turning to give him a defiant look, her face streaked with tears. He left her alone.

He watched her for the next month as she watched the door. He brought her food; he was convinced that she wasn't eating. Often he would find pieces of toast he made her shoved under the couch. The day he was called back to the Ministry to prepare for another battle, he entered the living room to see her sitting on the couch as always. He gave her a hug that wasn't returned and opened the door.

Turning back, he glanced at his little sister. She was gaunt and dirty; her eyes were wild. Another tear slipped down his cheek.

"Goodbye, Ginny." he said. He turned to leave, but was stopped by the sound of her hoarse voice.

"He promised." she stated.

"I know, Ginny. I know." he whispered, slipping into the snowy night. "He promised."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**AllisonCarroll**: Wow. That's really depressing. Now I'm really sad.

_Thanks! Sort of. I'm glad it had an affect and isn't just fluff! Erm, depressing fluff!_

**DoesLifeExsistAftertheSunset**: That's so sad!

_I know, I could have made it even more upsetting, but I thought it was depressing enough as it is..._

**Emerald-eclipse**: is there going to be a sequel ?

_There might be a sprt of follow-up one-shot. Not really an in depth sequel, just another one-shot, and then maaaaaybe I could do an in depth story about what happened before and after Promise and the sequel one-shot. But I already have a huge stack of plot bunnies I'm workin on, so I shall see. Thanks!_

**Won-Won is gwoss gwoss**: Oh my gosh! I hate you so much for being able to write depressing crap! not that it's crap, its actually wonderful, I'm just to stupid to write sad stuff. Or hyper. whatever. its wonderful and i love it!

_Haha, thanks. _

Thanks to everyone for reviewing!

_Charlotte_


End file.
